


Spaceship Chikyuu ‹スペースシップ地球›

by kunshi_sekijou



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, American academic calendar, American!Akaya, Analytical conversations, Cultural Stereotypes, Gathering of OTPs, International Study Abroad program, M/M, Mild Smut, beta what beta, lengthy dialogues, writing style what writing style
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-18
Updated: 2015-02-18
Packaged: 2018-03-13 14:01:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3384299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kunshi_sekijou/pseuds/kunshi_sekijou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We are all exploring astronauts. Our spaceship headed for Earth, and someday we'll make our mark on this planet the same way the man on the moon made his.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spaceship Chikyuu ‹スペースシップ地球›

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to the friends I've met along the way, parted paths with and think of everyday. I wish you all good luck in life.
> 
> Special thanks to my roommate/friend. Our conversation was so meaningful and deep... Too bad you know nothing of how your words are used for my perverted purposes.
> 
>  
> 
> **Unbeta'd. Will be revised in the future. Possibly.**

_Just let me dream a little longer,_

_Hope a little harder,_

_Struggle a little stronger,_

_And I'll wake up to reality soon,_

_I promise._

**[BGM:** One Republic - "Counting Stars" **]**  
 **[BGM:** Philip Philips - "Home" **]**

**Spaceship Chikyuu**   
**～スペースシップ地球～**

He awoke. The culprit of his premature awakening not the dim dawn, but the smothering warmth of the heater turned up too high and the fretful rhythm of his heart beating too loud.

Two large suitcases, stuffed, zipped, locked and standing upright as the traveler's mighty guardians came into view immediately. The bed across from his, unoccupied. Made. Cold, despite the circulated warmth in the enclosed space.

Sitting up, Renji ignored his body's protest and the dull reminder of yesterday's shadow under his eyes, and abandoned slumber in bed.

Just as he finished wrapping himself in protective layers against the cold, the bathroom door opened. His roommate, Mitsuya Akuto, emerged in his refreshed, well-rested state, ready to travel.

Fifteen minutes later, the other walked through the door of their shared dormitory. His focus entirely on the printed itinerary in his grip. He did not look back. Not once.

Following behind, Renji knew he would return in a mere few hours. Yet, he still paused to look behind his shoulder to the room, completely symmetrical in furniture placement, but antithetical in content.

When he juxtaposed the vacancy of one side to the silhouette of the trees stripped down to its brittle skeletons by the winter chill, he couldn't help but wonder if anyone would fill in this space. If the bare branches would fill again with leaves and blossoms came spring.

...

They called for a taxi to take them to the international airport approximately fifteen minutes from their university.

The flow of the morning traffic before rush hour was rather smooth. A few adolescents in bright sweats with earphones connected to the music player in their pockets jogged along the sidewalk. Salarymen took long strides, their attention divided evenly between the crosswalk and the time limit reflected in their wrist watch.

This city, like them, had no time to stir awake, linger in bed, sober surely and completely. Precious time needed to be allocated to other priorities.

Upon their arrival at the airport, they joined the long check-in lines already formed from other sleep-deprived guests.

After some wait, the other checked his two pieces of luggage. Confirming they had some extra time, Akuto invited him for morning coffee. The thriftiness their parents and years of supporting themselves financially in the university instilled in them deterred them from purchasing an overpriced breakfast as much as the caffeine upset their empty stomachs.

"Do you mind hearing me out once more before I leave?"

Renji shook his head. Even if the other didn't have to go, he would still listen to him, listen to what he had to say. He always did.

"Before I decided to take this journey alone, I sat down and had a long discussion with my parents. Tradition made them disagree and discourage my trip. I spent some time evaluating their words and logic. All I can say is that as much as they believe they've come to know me in the twenty-something years that we have lived under one roof, they still don't understand me, understand my needs completely." Akuto spoke. He clutched the paper cup in his hand, but Renji figured he had already dismissed its contents, its existence as his eyes sought the blue sky he would soon depart to. "I want to change the world in my own way. And I'm not afraid of hard work. I don't mind that, perhaps, I would have to contribute five to six times the amount of effort than everyone else to achieve the same results."

Renji couldn't take his eyes off this person before him, catching the sun's rays and glowing with determination and ambition. This was the part of him he had been attracted to in the first place. That if he associated with him, maybe he would acquire a part of the other's light.

Akuto shifted the paper cup to his right hand and gazed at the palm of his left hand.

Then, he directed his attention to the lines and marks mapped out on his skin.

"My mother took me to see a palm reader a few days earlier. She said it would comfort her even if only a minimal part of my future is revealed to her." He recounted, his tone somewhat amused. "I find it rather inane that we, as a society, depend so much on superstition, on luck, on things that science can't prove, while giving less attention to talent, to ability, to scientific theories. Above that, I don't understand why she has chosen to believe in a stranger's forecast, rather than believe in me, her progeny, someone whom she should be confident of."

Akuto pointed out to a deep but short line originating from a point between his thumb and forefinger.

"My mother almost lost all consciousness when the palm reader warned me to take better care of my health, traced in the shortness of this mark she referred to as the life line." Akuto's eyes narrowed behind his glasses. "But, what they don't know is that I could not care less about the length of my life. I don't need to live forever. All I need is to achieve what I need to achieve before I die. I will make sure I do."

Renji revered his proclamation.

"What about you, Renji? Have you any goals in mind as you approach college graduation?"

As if he had been caught in reverie, he found himself unable to answer to the other's question.

He didn't want to just give a perfunctory answer that could comfort the other's concern as it had with his parents and relatives. He didn't want to lie. He couldn't lie. Because he knew the other would see through his lies, the same way he saw straight to the goal in his path despite life tending to be nebulous, undefined.

Sensing his hesitation, Akuto redirected his attention back to his cup of cold coffee. They sat in heavy silence for a moment before Akuto finally said.

"I hope, by the time I return, you would have found an answer, not for me, but for yourself."

Under the influence of the other's calm voice, his heart only enunciated its erratic rhythm, beating to shame. To fear.

"Be warned that it won't be easy, for you've walked the path that someone else had paved for you for so long, I don't know if led astray, you'll find another way, if not better, then closer to your own ideals."

Akuto left through the boarding gate. As he watched his plane take off from the window, it was at that very moment Renji realized how much, how long he depended on him and walked in the solace of his shadow.

That taking a step forward into the light is so unfamiliar to him that he's afraid of it.

...

After the other departed, Renji returned to his now half-empty dormitory room.

Seiichi had just texted him, asking about the progress of the script. Renji stared at the blank lined paper he compulsively lined up with the edge of his desk to fool his mind into thinking that he was being more productive than he really was. Then he answered assuring the other that he would have a finished draft ready soon. He lied.

Even as he sat at his writing desk, body entirely ready and free of the vexations of hunger, fatigue, pain, and boredom, he could not bring his mind to will the same. It was as if his mind had remained at that airport, standing in front of the window to watch Akuto's plane carry him into the clouds.

As much as he was his confidant, mentor, he realized now that he needed some distance from the other. It was sort of hapless fortune, but he was glad he had gone.

Now he could examine his goals, his dreams. If he had the same dreams, if they were unchanged even after the other's departure, even without the other's support, then that meant his dreams were his indeed. That he had not deluded himself into thinking that he had a dream when, in reality, he had made the other' s dream into his because having a dream was better than having none.

Having such thoughts appeared to have awakened his heart as it rose to carry the burden of his writing. Soon, the words in ink sprinted from line to line, seeming to chase the point of his pen in a match of true speed. Inspiration squeezed at his heart, wringing all that had saturated it and made it too heavy for him to bear from before.

Before he knew it, he could no longer proceed with his writing. Day had become night. Even with fully dilated pupils and an above average night vision, he could not see through the darkness to ensure what he wrote down retained its accuracy.

He reached for his desk light. His cell phone rang, so he reached to grab the object instead. Seiichi called to check on his progress and suggested that they talk about it over dinner. Agreeing, Renji hung up and grabbed a tote bag to put in his drafts and essentials.

Fifteen minutes later, they met at the entrance of the campus, both bundled up in thick jackets and scarves. Maybe it was the weather, or because they were both too occupied mentally, that they automatically sought out the ramen restaurant they frequented that was also the nearest to the campus.

As expected, the weather drew in customers, seeking both relief from hunger and the chill. Lucky for them, it was still quite early and the after-work crowd hadn't appeared yet. They found their usual seat at the corner of the small establishment.

"So, Mitsuya-senpai left today." Seiichi started the conversation after they ordered their meals.

"Aa."

"It must feel weird now after your roommate left."

"Yes, it will take some time getting used to." He admitted.

Seiichi looked at him intently, as if he wanted to ask something. He waited. But in the end, the other only looked away. That must have been a cue of some sort, for the server came to pass them their food. Renji found it rather ironic how the other commanded attention and obedience on and off the stage. Contrary to the other's innocuous appearance, he effectively exerted his influences on others.

He looked at the bowl of miso soup in front of the other. "Is that all you plan to have for dinner?"

Seiichi shrugged, cradling the bowl in his hands to absorb its warmth. "I'm not that hungry."

For some reason, the way the other parried his question made him worry. But he knew if he pressed further, the other would only just get more defensive.

So he let the silence settle between them as he slurped his noodles and the other sip his soup. Finishing before him, the other requested to see his draft. He surrendered it without a word.

The play he wrote was titled, _Shouyou_ (逍遙）. Or "Freedom to roam unfettered." The story began in ancient Japan, during the warring states era, in a secluded village, Unmon, that rejected contact with the outside world. To help the village keep up with the times and to prevent civilization from becoming obsolete, the Elders sent out Seekers each year on a quest for knowledge. Once the seekers returned, they would be able to record the knowledge they've obtained on their journey. The protagonist was a seeker. The plot centered around his quest. His motivation for the quest stemming from the unfulfilled wish of his mother. The tale detailed his encounter with deceitful men. His rescue by the enigmatic medicine man. His talent discovered by a certain warlord. How the warlord exchanged the vast knowledge in his library for his service. The seeker's service to his lord. His eventual departure to travel to other lands in pursuit of knowledge, and his return to his village to fulfill his initial duty.

By the time he finished, the other had finished reading over the pages as well.

"When I wrote this, it felt as if I had been struck by sudden epiphany."

Seiichi looked at him, waiting.

"Things don't have enough power to influence people as much as people do. There comes a time in your life when you decide to do something or give up on something for someone else. In this case, the seeker chose to give up his carefree wandering in service to this warlord. In the same perspective, the seeker's reason to wander in the first place is for his people. More specifically, for his mother."

"As expected of a literature specialist. I'm not surprised you would write something as profound as this." He grinned, his cerulean eyes glinted with conspicuous admiration.

Then he commented. "Though, it seems unfinished."

"Aa. I was going to ask you to help me with that."

"All right then, let's take a walk and think this through."

The two of them paid for their meals. As they exited, Renji noticed the after work crowd starting to filter in. Men with loosened ties, furrowed brows and noticeable hump of their backs from the accumulation of stress and acrid criticism of their superiors.

They arrived at the park and stopped at an area by the central fountain. Usually, it was the ideal setting for a moonlit tryst. But the weather discouraged that today. They had the opened area to themselves.

Passing the draft back and forth, they tried out roles and recited lines.

"I see that you've kept our clubmates in mind when you wrote this." Seiichi commented after attempting a few lines. "I could see them falling into the roles you've made out for them. Niou would be the enigmatic medicine master. Yagyuu, your travel companion... I would be the warlord. And you would be the Seeker."

Renji shook his head. "I don't wish to participate this time."

"Too late for that, Renji. You've already personalized the script." Seiichi rejected. "Consciously or unconsciously, you've produced that seeker from the deepest part of yourself. You don't have to worry about the audience judging your dreams, because they'll be most concerned about our performances."

If his dreams, his secret desires were so evident in this script that he has written, then he wondered. "If you could see through me so clearly, won't you enlighten me. What do you dream of, Seiichi?"

He found himself asking that question a lot after Akuto's departure. Probably because he, himself, attempted to parry the question.

Seiichi only smiled. "To perform well on our last play before graduation, of course."

The snow descended when he made his announcement, as if wishing him luck in his pursuit. Years later, when Renji found himself thinking back to the past, to his college life, this became one of the most unforgettable moments.

The two of them standing under the winter moonlight, welcoming the first snow of the season.

"I think I have the perfect ending." Seiichi let his words drift away, lose direction in the sea of snowflakes.

The snow brought away the end of the year. It faded away as quietly as the snow that would soon melt away to pave a path for the arrival of a new year and new season.

...

"Your noodles are getting cold."

Renji blinked. When he did, his mind returned to coexist with his body and he recognized that he was at the ramen shop by the university with his friend instead of at the airport, having one last exchange before he headed across the seas.

"Are you all right?" The blunet next to him asked further. "You've been spacing out a lot recently."

He nodded. "Yes. Thank you for asking."

"Okay, if you say so." Seiichi said. Even though the look in his eyes said he wasn't at all convinced.

He felt the other watch him, as if his gaze could pierce through him, or if he stared hard enough, he could goad him into confession. Renji only dipped down to push the swollen udon noodles into his mouth mechanically. He almost grimaced at the chilled food meant to be consumed hot.

Sensing that prying would get nowhere when he had constructed an invisible wall around himself, Seiichi changed the subject after sipping the soup and allowing it to wash his silent question down his throat.

"Want me to move in with you to keep you company?"

Renji shook his head. "Thanks for the offer, but the dormitory director already assigned my roommate."

Seiichi peered over. "I thought we always had the right to choose our own roommates."

"Yes, however, this one is different. This one is an international study abroad student. According to the dormitory director, I was the best roommate for him because I'm majoring in foreign language. I could help socialize him to this new milieu."

Seiichi chuckled, even though Renji thought he really just wanted to burst out laughing. "You know, you're quite popular among the underclassmen. They're all talking about how gentle and helpful you are. If anything, you should have told them to keep their mouths shut in exchange for helping them with academic work."

Renji sighed. He felt a headache take root and sprout at his temples.

After lunch, before they decided to part ways, his friend waved at him.

"So, I'll see you at rehearsal then."

He shook his head. "I apologize, Seiichi, I won't be able to make it to rehearsal today."

Seiichi raised an eyebrow. "Oh, must be something really important if you're cutting rehearsal."

He really didn't appreciate how the sarcastic edge in the other's voice challenged him to make up a plausible excuse. But, he explained anyway.

"The international student. The school counselor asked me to help him familiarize with his environment this afternoon."

"Then why doesn't he do it himself? He _is_ the counselor and that is what he does, isn't it?" His tone became obviously vehement.

Renji said nothing.

Seiichi turned away after shooting him a disappointed look.

"Fine. See you tomorrow. You better show up."

"I will."

"Good."

...

After getting off the subway, he spent about fifteen minutes meandering through the streets back to the university.

The walk this time seemed longer than any other, and he wondered if it had been the January chill that prevented his advance and slowed his pace.

He made out his dormitory building even as a gust of wind blew at his eyes, evoking physiological tears to blur his vision. Climbing the stairs to the second floor, he found his room number and pulled out his keys.

Renji unlocked the door.

Years later, when he thought back to the first encounter he had with the other, he would realize how unreliable the first impression the majority of the worldly interactions based on was.

The room that he had just spent the entirety of yesterday cleaning and dusting changed so much that he thought he had perhaps walked through the wrong door to the wrong room.

The room had been a symmetric mirror image where two bunk beds occupied the two sides of the room. Beside the bed, was the student's writing desk, made of cheap synthetic wood, and dresser of the same material. If there was anything that made the room unbalanced, it was the single bathroom its occupants shared that took away the space on his side of the room.

Now, as he stood at the doorway, his eyebrows furrowed instinctively when he witnessed the mess before him.

Suitcases big and small littered the small quarter. The contents that spilled out hindered his path. When he detected movement from the corner of one eye, the figure he thought was his roommate was actually the ponderous guitar case no longer able to support its weight against the wall as it slid to the floor with a dull, heavy _thud_.

He took a moment to register the scene before him. His mind mapped out a route, to help him maneuver through the mess.

At that moment, a figure emerged from the bathroom. Their gazes met. The other approached him, his socked feet stomping on the clothes and material sprawled out on the floor as if they were part of the carpeting.

The first thing that drew his attention was the grin that spread through his lips and the white teeth that showed through like his eagerness. The disheveled raven hair reminded him of seaweed. And even though the other's messy hair fell in his eyes, he still caught the glint of good cheer.

When the other finally stood before him, he saw that they were of the same height. Though the other's shoulders seemed wider than his own.

His new roommate reached out to shake his hand. Actually, he merely grabbed the hand that he didn't have the time yet to extend.

"Hi, nice to meet you!"

Renji felt a flow of warmth spread from his cold hands to his trembling body from the single handshake. The other winced at his frozen grip.

"Whew, sure is cold out. Come on in before you freeze to death." He pulled him inside, wrapping an arm loosely around his shoulder in a friendly manner and kicked the door shut behind him.

Renji frowned microscopically from the other's overwhelming body contact. He stepped away carefully to face him in introduction.

"I'm Yanagi Renji. It is a pleasure to meet you."

"I've heard great things about you, Renji-san! It's a pleasure to meet you too!"

The other's forward address of his first name vexed him further. His mind attempted to calm his turbulence with reason. The other was a foreigner, after all.

His roommate must have sensed his discomfort from his silence. He scratched his head and grinned sheepishly.

"I'm sorry. I must be rude. I tend to forget my manners when I get too excited." He coughed and straightened himself. "Forgive me. Yanagi-senpai."

He reintroduced himself.

"My name is Kirihara Akaya, and I'm from the United States." His clean Japanese revealed nothing of his origin. The other cocked his head as if trying to remember what else to include in his introduction "I have type O blood. I'm a Libra. My hobbies include writing music, playing the guitar, and computer games... And...uh...Oh. I'm actually of Japanese descent... That is...if you're wondering about my perfect Japanese."

As upset and impatient as he was with the condition of the dorm, he stood still and nodded when the other gave his introduction.

"Oh, and please, just call me Akaya."

Renji knew there was no use arguing with the other on that.

So he nodded again. "Akaya."

The other broke out in the same sincere grin that almost made him forget his dismay of the room's current state.

...

Since he didn't go to practice that day, Renji used the time that afternoon to show his roommate around the university complex.

He condensed the tour, showing him only the places essential to every student. The library. The bookstore. The cafeteria. The fitness center and pool.

Like the curious foreigner and student first exposed to such an environment, Akaya fired question after question. Comment after comment.

"Wow, sure is clean here, in Japan. The campus here is more well-kept than the campus I attended back at the states."

"Hey, check that out!"

"Check this out!"

Renji let his comments run on like a freight train without much interruption. He had been involved in enough social situations that it was safe for him to conclude that sometimes when people talked or ranted, they weren't necessarily looking for a response. All they needed was silent company, or more bluntly put, a human wall to reflect their own statements, so they could talk to themselves and reach certain conclusions.

His roommate stopped abruptly.

Renji pulled his mind back at that moment and halted as well. He peered at him, waiting for an explanation for his sudden stop.

"Senpai, are you listening?"

"Yes, of course."

Akaya gave him a challenging look. "Oh yeah? But I don't see much reaction from you."

"I apologize for my lack of reaction, but I assure you, I have heard all your comments." Then, as if to prove his point, Renji recounted. "Eleven minutes ago, you commented about how well-polished the bronze statue of the university founder was. Seven minutes ago, you asked me the direction of the cafeteria, even when I've already pointed it out twenty-one minutes ago. And four minutes ago, you asked me the sex of a sexually ambiguous individual who happened to pass by. Would you like more proof?"

His words must have defeated him. For the other pivoted back around and resumed walking without further argument. Though he mumbled under his breath, Renji didn't miss the other's complaint.

"...Japanese people _are_ hard to read... All those years of watching anime meant nothing... I should have known better than to trust kid cartoons..."

Renji raised a brow, but said nothing.

"Hey, it seems like there are more international students than I thought there would be." The other exclaimed, his frustration dismissed from his system upon the introduction of a new observation.

Renji nodded. "Yes, there is approximately 14% international students in the entire student population. During my first year, the percentage was about 8%."

With the burgeoning of the country, the influx of tourist attraction and foreign attention rose to a whole other level, and the acceptance of international students and tourists boosted the economy of the country.

As the campus tour carried on, the two of them passed by the club fair set up directly outside the cafeteria.

The ardent methods the existing club members used to solicit new membership no doubt intimidated many of the students. That's why, Renji preferred to avoid the cafeteria during the first weeks of the new semester.

His roommate watched in awe the campaign, complete with megaphones and fist pounding emphasis.

"So not all parts of anime were exaggerations and lies."

Renji shrugged. He hadn't watched any anime before in his life even though they were on all the time when he flipped through the channels to watch the news. "Apparently not."

The other snickered as a few students made a break for the cafeteria exit with their food as the recruiters turned away to harass other students. He asked him. "So, are you involved in any clubs, senpai?"

"Yes, I am a member of the Drama Club."

That seemed to have startled the other more than the clubs' recruitment methods.

"...Drama Club..."

Renji nodded in confirmation.

"So... You help write the script, with the props, or..."

"I wrote the script for the upcoming play, and I also cast in it." He said plainly. From where he stood, he could see the poster prematurely advertising their play on the outer wall of the cafeteria. Instructions from Seiichi, no doubt.

Akaya gawked at him. Renji's brows furrowed and the other must have sensed his annoyance.

"Sorry, I don't mean to be rude." He apologized. While Renji dismissed his apology and wondered how many more apologies he needed to utter before his final transition into this subtle-mannered society. "But, somehow, I find that hard to imagine."

Then he added. "...Unless the character you play is as apathetic and expressionless as you are now."

Renji detected no trace of sarcasm or mockery in his emerald eyes. He could understand why the other had trouble associating his nonchalant, tepid manner with the ever-changing, dramatic ways of the performer.

In the end, Renji only replied. "You can say that."

It was no lie. After all, theater depended not only on the diversity of facial expression, but also in the revelation of emotions through dialogues and soliloquies, the dissection of motives behind actions.

Coincidentally, the character he played happened to be a complex character with apathy's facade and sentiment's mind.

"So...uh, why don't I see a stand for the Drama Club?" Akaya's eyes darted from stand to stand.

"They're in the auditorium rehearsing."

The other beamed. "Could you show me the auditorium then?"

So they meandered through the student faculty, to arrive at the main building where a large crowd gathered at the records and registration area on the left when they walked through the doors. New students gathered for updates and information.

They pushed past the crowd, then took the stairs down two flights.

After marching through a short hallway, they arrived before double wooden doors. He pulled the handles and they stepped in.

The large auditorium had a simple design and a capacity of 724 seats, divided amongst the five sections. They followed the lit walkway, moving toward the stage, the brightest area in the dim room.

As the approached the stage, Renji noted a few rows in front closest to the stage to be occupied by a small group of student audience. Their club usually rehearsed in their large clubroom, behind locked doors and blinded windows. When they scheduled rehearsal in the auditorium once every other week, supporters of their club always found them. Regardless of their shifting schedules.

He spotted his friend, the club president, on stage as he called for break. As the cast on stage dispersed to their own little corners on and off stage, the blunet cast a careless glance in his direction. He stared at them, then slowly descended the steps by the stage to approach him.

Seiichi's usual smile graced his lips. From a corner of his eye, he detected movement from his roommate as he shifted uncomfortably. "...scary..."

Renji didn't have time to admire the other's ability to detect his friend's intimidation beyond his innocuous appearance when Seiichi stopped before them.

"How nice of you to stop by, Renji." He greeted. "I thought you were too busy to come."

The same headache from earlier throbbed at his temples, triggered by his mellifluous voice.

Seiichi's attention turned to his roommate who attempted in vain to diminish his existence.

"Oh, what is this? Is this the international student the dorm director entrusted to you, whom you've cut rehearsal for?" He gibed. "Nice to meet you."

"N-Nice t-to meet y-you...too." Akaya uttered.

"Now, if you will excuse me, I must return to rehearsal and ensure it runs smoothly. Even at the absence of the lead role." He turned his back, marched away and back on stage without looking once in their direction.

"Uh... Is he mad at me for making you miss practice?" Akaya asked.

"You are not at fault. It was my own choice." And his friend overreacted. That was all.

Renji took one last look at the stage, at the rehearsal resuming, before steering him out of the auditorium.

When the doors clicked close behind them, Akaya suggested. "I'll make it up to you. It'll be a thanks for showing me around too."

He glanced over to the sunset outside when they climbed the stairs back up, back to the gathering of lost students huddled together at the records office and information desk. "Let's go for dinner! It'll be my treat!"

Renji didn't protest. Rejecting his gratitude was improper.

...

"I think I'm going to get lost in this place." Akaya commented as they strolled to the campus exit.

By now, night had fallen to navy violet as the sun's orange trail faded into the horizon.

"I know I'm not the brightest crayon in the box but my sense of direction is just horrible. If it wasn't for the doctors, I think I would have easily lost my way coming to this world."

Renji grunted. The other's exaggeration became a feather teasing slightly at his sense of humor. It worked.

"Woah... Was that muffled laughter I just heard?" Akaya ogled at him. "So you do have emotions after all."

"I am only human." Renji said. Being in the other's company conditioned his forbearance rather well. He thought, if majoring in foreign language meant that he would encounter more people like his roommate in the future, he found an additional need to grow accustomed to the other's bluntness and sarcasm that contrasted against his own cultural reserve and propriety.

"Oh, before I forget, senpai, do you mind giving me your number?" Akaya pulled out his smartphone from his pocket. "I won't bother you unless it's an emergency, like if I get lost or something."

He reported his cell phone without any hesitation. It was something he kept private at first. Something that only his few friends and his family had access to. But since he had began helping classmates and kouhais on their assignment, he gave up discriminating those who would receive his contact information. Luckily, of all those he gave his number out to, no one really bothered him much unless it was absolutely necessary to.

Akaya saved the number on his phone. "Thank you for being the first contact in my Japanese phone book. I promise I'll make as much friends as possible here, as soon as possible, so I don't have to annoy you with all my problems."

He tucked his phone back. "So, where do you suggest we go for dinner?"

...

Since it had already gotten dark, Renji led him to the closest _yakisoba_ eatery.

They lifted the _noren_ advertising the restaurant's specialty in hiragana and stepped inside the tight, enclosed space. It was close to dinner time. They spotted a few youths, no doubt students from their university, and a few men in loosened business attires parking themselves at quiet corners after work to unwind.

The two of them filled in the last seats. A middle-aged woman, no doubt the _tenchou_ 's wife, came to take their order.

"Since I'm in Japan now, let me try some green tea. And as my meal, I would like the chicken yakisoba, please. No onions or carrots, please."

Beside him, Renji noticed the slight twitch of the woman's eyebrow before she accepted their orders and disappeared to retrieve their drinks .

"May I say, " Renji spoke, "that it is preferred that you simply pick out the undesirable pieces rather than to make the special request."

Akaya's eyes widened in realization. "That's right! How could I have forgotten! That's what my mom nagged me about before I left."

He grinned sheepishly. "People always said I'm pretty insistent about getting what I want. I guess it's true."

When they were served their hot tea, Akaya turned to him.

"I'm thinking it'd be wrong for me to ask for sugar for this?"

Renji sipped his own tea as if he didn't hear his question.

"Okay. Never mind."

...

In college, students learned to become jugglers. Some fail and in the end and all the responsibilities they balanced crash, to land in a heap at their feet. A few succeed, and succession only guarantees that another load would be added to the pile they shuffled around.

When he began college, he made the decision to dorm at school. To free himself from his parents' vigilant watch. What he gave up was also their financial support, as he relied on his scholarship grants and part time work as tutor.

At the start of his school year, he juggled academic assignments, club activities, and his part time job.

He didn't want to neglect his parents entirely. So he hung onto them loosely as if on a string, calling them at the minimum once a month.  
Renji contacted his sister too. Through text messages. Through voice mail. He had a close relationship with her, unlike average siblings of the opposite gender.

Until she stopped returning his calls and messages abruptly after his first year. The load he balanced and juggled suddenly felt heavier in her absence.

He considered the irony of the truth and how it was as similar to a person's lungs feeling the same burden deprived of the oxygen that was denied of its importance at an invisible abundance.

Unfortunately, time didn't wait for anyone to get used to situations. More load added to his pile.

His friend, his mentor, graduated and departed. He acquired an new, foreigner roommate.

Eventually, he got used to the other's presence, got used to their different life styles just like he got used to Akuto's absence, the way their life styles were harmonious when they roomed together.

His load lightened. He awed at the marvel of human adaptation, and realized that perhaps it might be the single solution to lightening one's load.

To adapt.

Yet, try as he may, his concern for his sister never lifted. As if he had developed a fear that became sand, leaking through his fingers and scattered on the ground to become his failure.

...

His roommate's lifestyle was rather established and routinely than he thought for a curious first time visitor to the country where possibilities met convenience.

Not that he made an effort to keep track of his daily routines or anything. But because he, himself, had an organized schedule day-to-day, it was easy to recognize that his roommate had established one for himself too.

Early morning, the other goes for an hour to two hours of exercise, probably at their campus fitness center. Then he proceeds to classes. He returns in the evening to struggle through his assignments with headphones on and cursing to himself from time to time. He retires to bed around midnight each night. On weekends, he spends the morning from his dorm and returns on evenings to work away on his guitar and music sheets, pencils, erasers littering the floor on his side of the room.

From time to time, as if it had also been an established routine, his roommate would turn around from his desk, wiggle across the room on his swivel chair as if moving about in gravity-defying space and interrupt him during his assignments with questions on his.

As much as he loathed being interrupted during his periods of deep concentration, he managed to have enough forbearance to guide the other through his inquiries.

Soon, when March came around the corner, the other came to him again for help studying for the mid-terms.

The two of them huddled together at Renji's desk, under the single lamp light.

Eventually, when his kouhai's attention span reached its limit an hour later, the other started a series of small talk that led to the discussion of how he decided to study abroad.

"As you could tell from my name, I'm half Japanese. My mother's American. Well, actually, I can't really say that because she's not a native American. Her roots are in Europe. Somewhere." He said and looked over to see if he was still listening.

Renji nodded for him to continue. He was already absorbed in the other's story, his past, in gaining access to something so new to him that his own studies, the exams he had an 86% certainty of receiving a high mark on, faded with their importance to the dark corner of his mind.

"But anyway, I was brought up learning to speak Japanese. My parents told me being multilingual would come in handy one day. I'm sure they were referring to career possibilities. Maybe I'm still young, and haven't been exposed to reality and how people struggle to survive. All I'm thinking when I decided to come here was that I'll be in touch with my roots and that I'll be able to meet people. People different from me."

Renji saw his eyes light up in the excitement and determination. And he recalls seeing a pair of eyes much like these not too long ago. The ones with similar shine. The ones his memory voluntarily or involuntarily forgot.

"I'm a people person. Someone who you might call an extrovert or whatever. I enjoy talking to people. I enjoy learning from them. If I can speak more languages, then that means I can communicate with more people and reach out to them."

It was at that exact moment, that he learned the reason why he was drawn to the other's words in the first place. His instincts had the strength in discerning those who were similar to him in some aspects. It was a strange, yet wonderful feeling, to not express himself but to have another express a similar thought, desire as him.

His eyes wandered to the guitar resting inside its case that his roommate finally managed to prop up against the wall without it sliding down or falling over.

"So, music is another way you communicate, then?" He asked.

Akaya grinned. "Yeah. You know, senpai, a lot of kids at my school listen to Japanese and Korean music. A lot of them don't even know the meaning of the lyrics, but they still like the songs. They're still drawn to it. That's why I do music, senpai. Yes, it's true I try to write my own meaningful lyrics. But it's fine if people don't understand. My music will guide them. My music will make them feel less lonely."

He nodded. Inside, he was already impressed. Renji knew the other's predilection of music wasn't the "phase" adults talked about when they see their children dive into something impetuously.

"May I assume that another reason why you came here for this program is to be away from your parents so you can compose your pieces undisturbed?"

"Was it that obvious?" Akaya grinned sheepishly and scratched his head. "Yeah, you're right, senpai. My old man is against me doing music. Said it's a waste of time. But I feel, if I don't make music now, I won't have that chance in the future. Once you become an adult, there's no time for creativity or whatever, because everything is about money."

"That is a harsh assumption, Akaya." Renji said quietly, his tone in no manner strict or firm with the intention to scold him. He merely argued with him as his counterpart. "There are people out there, adults, thinking of new ways, producing innovations to better the world, to benefit lives. Do you accuse them of contributing their efforts only for the sake of pecuniary gain? Creativity is most conspicuous in the performing arts. But that does not mean, all others outside the field cannot be creative."

Akaya's head lowered and he appeared to be deep in thought.

"Hm. I think you're right. I've been cocky about what I said. But I'm not sorry because I take pride in what I do." He grinned, unapologetic. Then he stared at him with wide eyes as if realization just hit him out of nowhere.

"Senpai, this is the most you've spoken to me in the past few months! And the most you've expressed yourself!"

Renji realized how much he's spoken his mind from the satisfaction blossoming within him and the excitement rushing through his stagnant blood.

He remembered having long, heated discussions with Akuto in the past. Many times. But, unfortunately, he could not recall those times, except for the last time, at the airport, before the other's departure. Perhaps the other times have been too faraway.

The other's strong eyes must have provoked that competitiveness within him.

"So, senpai, since we talked so much about me already, tell me about yourself too. Like why you wanted to major in foreign language. I thought everyone here shunned foreigners."

Renji hesitated. He said plainly. "My reasons are like yours."

"Uh huh, and...?"

Akaya waited. But Renji refused more input. Instead, he said. "Let us save that for another conversation. You have more studying to attend to."

The other refused to comply. "You should know, senpai, when you ask to hear someone's story, when you get pieces of other people, you're supposed to, in exchange, contribute your own story, your own pieces as well."

"Yes, I know some people just like hearing themselves talk and expect you to hear them out. Those are the self-centered people and I don't think they should matter to you, and why should you care about them? Because they don't give a damn about you, either."

Renji nodded as if to agree with him. Akaya couldn't get him to say anymore as he turned back to his work. Their conversation suffered a sudden death.

In truth, he didn't want to admit that it was his friend, his mentor who influenced him to major in foreign language. At that time, he had naïveté to assume that if he followed the other on his path, if he majored in the same thing he majored in, they would walk together for a long time. The whole time he had been led to think that he had finally become independent from his parents, as he abandoned the path they've paved for him before his college life.

But true independence came not from walking in someone else's footprints. He wasn't completely uninterested in foreign language. But he needed a reason to stay on this path. A reason other than because someone else was doing the same.

Luckily, the reason he looked for was beginning to show itself now. Its existence as dim as the puny starlight in the night sky outside their window. He waited patiently for it to become brighter.

...

After the storm, all was calm again.

The week of mid-terms, the city was hit with heavy rain for the entire week. It was the rain that would bring a new season, a warmer weather after a cold one.

The last exam passed. The dark, gloomy sky shed the last droplet of rain. Spring recess began for the students. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief, and the trees stripped bare by the winter cold breathed in the spring to bud again.

Even as other students rested and slept in, making for all the nights they have forsaken sleep for coffee and textbooks, his biological clock still woke him up at the same time every morning.

He might not have class, but that didn't mean he didn't need to attend drama rehearsals. Especially since their performance would take place next week.

Renji took care of his personal hygiene, dressed, and left his roommate at their dorm in deep slumber.

...

"All right, everyone! Great practice today! Keep it up! Our performance is in a week!"

Practice ended after another long day.

The club members offered each other, "Cheers for good work," and were off to the exit.

Renji stayed after with a few of the casts, helping with clean up.

"Something seems to be off with Yukimura." Yagyuu, one of the club members he liked discussing methods with said as he adjusted his glasses as if it would help him see through the blunet in the distance. He was far from transparent.

"Puri." Niou nodded.

They turned in unison to peer at the slender figure discussing the script with another.

As if timed to happen liked a well-directed play, the water bottle slipped from Seiichi's hand. A string of tides burst from the bottle neck.

When the three of them rushed over, Seiichi was already a trembling pile on the floor.

...

Moments later, the water bottle that fell to the ground creating a puddle was back in the blunet's grip. The puddle on the ground, cleaned up.

The two of them sat alone in the clubhouse after Seiichi waved everyone off and dismissed them, dismissing their concerns. All the handmade props scattered around them. A cloth hung from the ceiling behind them, displaying the background for one of their scenes. Orange and blue pastels laid out a nostalgic sunset.

Renji studied his companion a bit longer. He looked fatigue, wan, even more pallid than usual. His chin was sharper, and the joints on the hands that gripped the water were more prominent, signifying his recent weight loss. Illness lurked within him, treading through his blood. Renji knew. He retracted his inconspicuous scrutiny and allowed his eyes to meet the other's cerulean ones.

He had avoided looking at the other's eyes until now. Because looking at their brightness would lead his observations, his conclusion astray. He avoided looking into his eyes, because once he did, he saw his own guilt reflected in them.

Guilt for neglecting his friend, his condition for so long. Lack of time was the best excuse. But he didn't let himself use it because, deep down inside, he knew time wasn't an obstacle to prevent him, or anyone, from doing what he wanted to do. If he really wanted to.

So, looking into his eyes now, he finally spoke. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault."

"I should have-..."

"Like I said."He cut him off. "It's _not_ your fault. I wanted to continue. I chose to continue."

"...How long has it been that you're like this?" He suspected that his companion already had his initial symptoms prior to the beginning of the semester.

Seiichi paused, as if he contemplated whether to tell him the truth or not.

"Tell me the truth, Seiichi."

"It's only been a short while." Seiichi shrugged, giving an ambiguous answer.

He was about to protest against when the other cut him off. "Look, it doesn't matter. What's important is our performance that's coming up in two weeks."

Renji peered at him through unlidded eyes. He wanted him to know he was serious now.

"Tell me, Seiichi. What valid reason do you have to forsaken your health for something that could be easily accomplished when you are well?"

His companion glared back. "You of all people know not to ask me this kind of question. Have you forgotten how many years we've known each other? I'm disappointed you still don't know what kind of person I am after so long."

Seiichi stood from his seat. He paced, limping a little, as if retracing his path back to the past. Back to their past.

"When I was little, I spent much time in bed because of my weak body. Mother said I couldn't play outside, so I didn't have much friends. That's fine. I was young. I was stupid. Then, I became older, my body became stronger and I met you and we joined the tennis club together. Then sickness attacked again, and I had to quit tennis. The doctor told me to. And after that, I found passion again in theater. Now that my body is rebelling again, are you, of all people, going to be the one to tell me to quit?"

He turned to him. "I have and had a whole line of people telling or have told me to quit. If you joined that crowd now, I don't think I'll be able to find you."

"...Seiichi..."

"To be able to perform on stage with you is my dream, Renji. Don't tell me to quit. Not now. Not in our final year together before duties and responsibilities separate us." He sat down before him again and took his hand in a grip of friendship. In a grip asking for support in return. _"_ We're all going to die one day. My sickness isn't something that will cost me my life."

"It will if you don't treat it." Renji pointed out.

"I'm just trying to have less regrets." Seiichi returned. "In the future, when I get the chance to look back, I want to see myself in the middle of things, instead of being the guy who sat on the sidelines."

Finally, Renji said nothing. He only gave the hands a squeeze as if to share with him his strength.

...

He returned to his dorm. He entered into a familiar sight: His roommate, on the floor, coddling his guitar, plucking his guitar and singing as if he's forgotten about the existence of the rest of the world.

Renji didn't disturb him. Instead, he walked in, closed the door and sat down on the edge of his bed slowly. And he listened. Because he was used to listening. Because if he only listened, no one would need to know his struggles, his fears, his ambivalence. Because if he listened to others, maybe he can find the words to help him calm the turbulence inside him, the tides of the Sea of Japan rising and falling within him.

His roommate finished. When he turned and saw him there, his eyes widened to the size of saucers.

"Hey, senpai, when did you get here?" Then, when he got over his surprise. "Did you just sit there to hear me play?"

His eyebrows twitched in a suggestive manner. "You like what you heard?"

Renji nodded. "What was that song?"

Then, Akaya withdrew his mischief and pride and scratched his head, embarrassed. "Actually, that wasn't mine. That was Philip Philips's 'Unpack Your Heart.' I played it 'cause I really like the lyrics."

"I see." He made a mental note to find it later.

"Hey, senpai, are you all right?" The other knelt down before him so he could show him the worry in his eyes.

Renji retained his nonchalance, though he wondered how the other could tell that he had something on his mind.

Akaya studied him carefully from his position.

Finally, Renji said. "Do you mind taking a walk with me?"

Minutes later, they stood on the sidewalk a few distances from the school, sitting on the bench overlooking the city lights that served as the neon skeleton of the city.

They sipped their own individual beverage they bought from the vending machine.

The first question he decided to ask was, "How did you know?"

He didn't point out what exactly the other knew about, but he knew the other would understand.

"You're probably wondering how I could tell something is bothering you, senpai. I guess living with you helped a lot in that category. That I started to understand your subtle hints and changes in body language. But I think I have to contribute the majority of the understanding to the reason that I want to understand you."

He looked over to him. "So that one day I could be ready. I could listen to you and sooth your troubles as you have done for me in the past."

It must have been his determination that broke down his walls, his guard, for then, he decided to speak his intimate mind.

"Like you, Akaya, I have a dream. I'm not afraid to invest my energy, my entirety into that dream. But sometimes, I cannot help but wonder of its worth."

"So, before we move on, I need to ask you, what is it that you want? What is your dream?"

Renji paused, but took a step forward boldly. "A literature professor. I want to teach people not only to find meaning in the text, but also in everything, every aspect of their lives. I want to achieve my dream so I can help others realize theirs."

"Oh, so that's what you meant! So that's why you majored in foreign language—so you can teach more people! Makes total sense now." Akaya laughed. "I like it!"

Renji shook his head. "Literature was actually my true intention. Majoring in foreign language is, perhaps, a pleasant surprise. Hearing your declaration previously revived a part of me that I thought had deceased with my immaturity. I, too, want to meet as many people as possible and listen to their stories. And in exchange, offer my own. But, do you not think it is mundane? It is rather puny and meaningless."

Akaya shook his head. "That's because you're comparing your dreams with other people's seemingly grand plans. But that doesn't take away the right for you to dream. Big or small, a dream is a dream, you know."

"Perhaps, that is what you think as an American."

"Hey, I don't think background has anything to do with this!"

"That is what you may think. And that might be so, ideally. But, here, in the eastern world, all parts of you are under the society's scrutiny once you arrive on this world. Even your dreams." Renji added. "We are a collectivist society, so nothing could entirely be kept to oneself, because all of us have to think about how it affects those around us. Especially our families."

"But, I still don't think it matters. Literature professor. Professional athlete. Doctor. Lawyer. Whatever." Akaya stated. "It doesn't matter as long as we are helping to influence the world and changing it for the better."

Renji stayed silent, as if he tried to convince himself of the other's words.

Akaya leaned over, as if doing so he can see deeper into him, past the facade he puts on.

"Senpai, I think I understand why you have such a straight face now. You just don't want to be exposed, don't want the others to judge what is within you." He looked at him and Renji felt as if the other was attempting to dissect him. "I hope one day, you'll feel safe enough to be vulnerable before me." The other declared.

Renji's instincts told him to withdraw, to run.

Attempting to dispel the seeming awkwardness between them, he decided to change the subject.

"The Drama Club's performance is next week. Would you like to attend?"

"Of course!" He exclaimed. "I caught your rehersal in the auditorium a few times. I know you didn't see me when I could only grab a seat away from the stage. Plus, you were so focused that I don't think anything beyond the stage mattered to you."

He beamed at him. "I didn't know you could be so passionate, senpai."

Renji didn't know how to reply to that. So he left it the way it was.

"Anyway, right now I'm just trying to find someone who would sell me a pass, since tickets have been long sold out."

Renji pulled a pass from his pocket. He had not meant to give this to the other. The passes were supposed to be for family and friends, but for one reason and another, there were many who he wanted to give to but couldn't. The other was the only one who he could give to.

"Thanks, senpai!" He beamed as if receiving a great present. Then he peered at the ticket and exclaimed. "Wow! Front row seats too! Thanks a whole lot!"

Renji only shook his head. "Not at all."

...

On the night of the performance, Renji left is dormitory, exchanging a "see you later" with his roommate. His walk down the stairs of his dormitory building was so quiet that he heard his shoes click softly against the concrete as he stride. It would be the only peace and quiet he'd get.

Walking along the straight and curved and intercepting paths of the campus, he took time to notice the flowers of all colors blossoming boldly and proudly among the of green leaves. Like a luminous performer hailed by his audience. Like a prodigious achievement praised by all.

As he neared his destination, he was joined by his other clubmates. With Yagyuu and Niou. Renji wasn't surprised that they proceeded to the dressing room together. Besides the fact that they were roommates, they were joined at the hip in many of the things they did as well. What Renji was slightly curious of, however, was what the two could do came graduation. The obvious possibility was that they would continue walking on together. If that was the case, as much as Renji refused to admit it, he was a bit envious.

Finding someone to walk on with in the long haul of one's life was as hard as finding a dream, a goal, one would not get bored, tired, disappointed, discouraged, frustrated at pursuing.

"Yanagi-kun." Yagyuu called out to him.

"Yes." He turned to him on the right.

On his left, his companion, Niou, spoke. "Usually, we have repeated performances. But a performance this grand, right before our graduation doesn't get a repeat performance?"

"Something says it's due to our club president's health."

"So, know anything about it?"

Renji said nothing. Though he felt them pressure him for an answer. The way the two of them finished each other's sentences and mimicked each other's way of speaking made him wonder whether they have also memorized each other's lines in the play.

Finally, he said. "I am sure the club president will disclose such information himself."

...

 **[BGM:** 小魂 - "孤山不孤" **]**

Even with disorganization in the dressing room—club members shoving their belongings into lockers, flipping and pushing through the hodgepodge of props and costumes to find the ones they needed for their individual roles, slathering on makeup, cramming last pieces of information into their minds as jumbled as the dressing room—Renji still made him out easily.

Seiichi sat on the padded chair, his side profile displayed on the lit wall mirror to his left. His sister had pulled up a chair and sat with him, her makeup brush tinting his face a healthy tan. The pressed powder hid his pallor, his sickness beneath. Combined with the ceaseless flame in his eyes, he was like any other well individual. If not, stronger.

The other turned to smile at him as he approached, eliciting a grumble from his sister.

"Onii-chan, you're moving around too much!" She complained, then followed her brother's gaze and saw him. The exasperation on her face slipped into hiding when she greeted him with a genial smile. "How are you, Ren-niichan?"

"Well, thank you for asking. And thank you very much for volunteering your time to help out with performance preparations." Renji smiled back.

She flushed as if embarrassed. "It's nothing! I have to come show support for my favorite people, ne?"

Her hand resumed work, but it dabbed at the same spot on her brother's cheek as she added shyly. "Once you finish dressing, I'll do your hair and makeup too, Ren-niichan."

Seiichi shot him a suggestive look. Renji didn't give it a second thought.

After all the preparations were made, it was twenty minutes till their performance. One of the club members had slipped on stage to peek out from behind the curtains to see the situation in the auditorium. It was a full house; and the ambiance of anticipation was incredible.

With that announcement, he spread their audience's anticipation to the other members in the dressing room. Everyone was ready.

Seiichi checked his impeccable appearance one last time in the mirror (while to muttering to himself, "Oh, this is why women take so long to get dressed")before straightening to face the cast.

Jabbers and whispers died down almost immediately. Everyone offered their attention humbly when he stood before them.

"As you might already know, our club always holds three to four repeated performances after opening night. You might all be wondering why this is not the case this year, especially since we, seniors, are graduating in a few months." Beside him, Renji heard Seiichi draw in a deep breath. "The truth is, everyone, I will be leaving for Kyushu tomorrow."

Gasps of surprise broke out through the room. No one else might know the reason, but Renji knew the other was seeking medical treatment.

"Forgive me for announcing this so late and last minute. Furthermore, please also forgive me for not wishing to disclose the reason of my departure." Renji and Seiichi's sister stood beside them to contribute their silent support. They saw through his motives. That he was someone who would rather be misunderstood, than pitied.

It was assumed that the resolve of the members would sway and falter with Seiichi's announcement. But, as the old, clichéd saying went: Actions speak louder than words. Their hearts seemed to settle again as whispers and mumbles settled into silence, and they decided to follow in Seiichi's lead. No one was blind or amnesic towards the travail that he dedicated into the club, into their performance.

Bathed in their support, Seiichi spoke his last words of wisdom. "Perform as you live. Wholeheartedly, with passion, with conviction, no matter what your role. I say these words not only as the club president, but also as your friend, Yukimura Seiichi."

Then, fitting himself into his warlord character and adjusting it to his natural comfort, he declared. "Men, let us march."

The members all roared as if crying for battle as they filed towards the stage.

Seiichi's light was so bright, that even the stage lights were nowhere in comparison.

Though, Renji knew that the other's light was so bright only because he had set himself on fire.

In the final scene, the warlord met his demise as the seeker rushed to his side on his deathbed. The warlord requested to be buried with the seeker's sword, so he would have company in his tomb. The seeker agreed, and the warlord rested in peace.

The lights dimmed and the curtains fell in the sea of applause. Even in the seemingly strident sound, Seiichi did not awake.

The last light faded.

...

He didn't know whether it had been due to the lighting in the hospital bouncing off of the monotonous stucco walls or the travail of the other's immune system battling against the disease that made Seiichi look so wan.

His friend knew of his own conditions. Seiichi's mother told him how he delayed treatment, relying only on symptom-easing medicine and the therapy of his will.

Renji stared at the IV infusion pump and the fluorescent digital numbers delivering calibrated droplets of liquid drug into his companion's system. As good as he was with reading and analyzing numbers, he didn't know how it bettered the other's illness, and what debilitating side effects it had.

When he glanced over at the sleeping figure on the hospital bed, he found the other staring up at him. The amusement in his eyes told nothing of his deep unconsciousness previously.

"I had a dream. One day, I've united this land under my peaceful rule. You were here, by my side, witnessing everything and we've grown old together. We rode out to the quiet mountains, free to roam unfettered to watch the sunset with tired eyes." Seiichi recited a line from the play. How fitting the moment was.

That was when he realized he still wore his costume. He didn't have time to change afterwards.

When he looked at his cerulean eyes, he saw the same affection he saw on stage, when he performed with the other. The other was a true natural performer.

"Don't blame yourself for anything. It was my choice." Seiichi reassured.

Silence slid between them.

Studying the other's face, he thought he saw a desire in him to say something else, to fill in the silence with conversation and small talk he was so good at making and carrying on.

In the end, to bring their conversation to a formal end, the other only said.

"There is something I want to tell you. But I'll wait because I hate to look this pathetic when I say it."

Seiichi turned on his side, turned his back on him.

...

The next day, he saw Seiichi off at the airport.

Renji locked his roommate in the room littered with music sheets behind closed doors. The absence of annoyance told him that he was getting more tolerant of Akaya's messiness.

When he arrived at the airport after taking the subway with the weekend crowd, Seiichi was already bidding farewell with the rest of the Drama Club. They all came to see him off.

He shook hands with Niou when he saw him approach. Then, Niou returned to his group, to Yagyuu's side.

Seiichi smiled at him from afar, unmoving, waiting for him to draw near. Close the distance.

The way their clubmates watched them and the rest of the passersby who threw a glance in their direction, made him feel as if they performed the play again. Neither of them minded the attention, Renji knew. After all, stage fright and social anxiety resolved with repeated performance.

As he moved towards him, Renji took the time to examine the other who had just been discharged from the hospital that morning. The worry that had kept him up all night dissapated when he caught his refreshed appearance, his bright eyes.

"You look well-rested." He stated his observation.

Seiichi's smile only widened. "Well, I didn't want to look like shit in front of all these people."

Renji's lips lifted at the corners too.

The other stared at him intently. It was as if he was recording his image in his memory. Yet, it looked as if he secretly decided to release a certain inhibition.

In the end, the shorter youth leaned in to encircle his arms around him, enclosing him in a tight embrace. He craned his neck so he could whisper in his ear.

"Wait for me, Renji. I'm not only going to go get treatment for my sickness. I'm going to work at myself too. As a person. I'm going to come back better. For my parents. For my little sister. For you." He pulled away before Renji could digest the hidden meaning behind his declaration.

"There is Facebook, Twitter, and Line—so many apps that make modern day communication easy and painless regardless of distance. Or, if that's not enough, we can always stick to the old-fashioned emails and phone calls. The thing is, and I find it really ironic, that there are still tons of miscommunications, and people refusing to take a few minutes out of their lives to say hello." Seiichi said, his criticism making the words he whispered to his ear seem like they never got spoken.

Renji blinked. Seiichi's smile found a tinge of mischief.

"I'm sorry, people. I didn't mean to blame everyone for not communicating and keeping in touch with your friends and loved ones. I like to generalize when I see Renji." He mock apologized to no one in particular. Then he stared, demanding. "Don't forget to keep in touch. Everyone has a busy life. That's not an excuse not to say hello."

Then, the blunet pivoted around, marched in a way that no illness, no adversity, could threaten him from surrendering his pride.

At that moment, watching his back, Renji realized that Seiichi didn't make himself into the warlord character. He is the warlord, as he existed in contemporary times. In his blood. In his bones. In his soul.

He joined his clubmates to see Seiichi and his family disappear through the security checkpoint.

"So, he finally made his move, huh?" Niou probed.

"Excuse me?"

"Sorry." Yagyuu cut in. "Please disregard his inappropriate question."

"It's obvious though, I don't understand how you don't get it."

"Masaharu."

"What?"

"It's not our business."

Before he could decipher the riddle they spoke in, his cell phone rang.

The moment he checked the caller ID, his surroundings melted away, faded to oblivion.

Nothing else mattered at that point in time.

...

Once upon a time, before children became adolescents, became adults, they knew nothing of separations and partings.

Once upon a time, Renji was a child too. He didn't know separations or partings.

Then, he grew up, attended elementary school, joined the tennis club for his school, met his first real friend, Akuto, then moved away and attended another elementary school.

At that time, the parting, the separation he comprehended was something temporary, something he could count away on the calender.  
Eventually, he got experienced at counting, in the same way he gained superiority in dealing with numbers.

Maybe, it wasn't even his intention to do so well with dealing with numbers. Maybe numbers were the only things, besides his parents and sister, his classmates and teachers, that kept him company in his friend's absence.

In his companion's company, he got to know the other better.

In the numbers' company, he got to know numbers better.

That was all.

Eventually, he got to know partings and separations better when he was introduced their opposites, meetings and reunions.

In junior high, he met Seiichi. Also, he was united with his childhood friend. Four years, two months, and fifteen days later.

Once upon a time, children knew nothing of partings and separations until they became adolescents and adults.

He was wrong.

He lost all contact with his sister halfway through his first year of college.

The friends who applied for the same college he did, the numbers on the calendar. Nothing kept him company. Nothing could keep him company.

What was true parting and separation? Children knew. Adolescents knew. Adults knew.

They all had the chance to know when a family member disappeared from their lives.

The same way his sister disappeared. Four years, three months, and seven days ago.

...

When his cell phone rang, and he checked the caller ID, Renji picked up immediately, afraid he won't get the chance to call back. Afraid that only the voice mail would answer him. Like it did in the last few years.

He held the flat screen to an ear. He waited.

"Renji." The delicate voice of his sister. Just like she sounded in her voice mail. But more heavy, more distant, with more lassitude. "How are you?"

"Good." He said. Which was all he said. Maybe because he has forgotten how to converse with her. Maybe because he didn't want to say anything else. After all, the years he's talked to her, confided in her, as friends and classmates and teachers walked in and out of his life, this time he wanted to listen to her, wholeheartedly. As she's done for him in the past.

So he walked with the cell phone attached to his ear, as if he was holding his sister's hand and she had just offered for them to find a place to sit down to catch up.

He found a small cafe at the airport.

In that establishment, he found a seat at a dark corner.

He listened to her while his eyes focused on the empty seat before him. That empty seat he imagined her sitting in.

His sister apologized for shutting him and their parents out of her life. She stated the reason. She explained her and her husband's situation. The whole time, making sure everything was terse. She gave all the necessary information. She left out all extraneous details.

Eventually, she said. "Both of us like to face problems alone. We like to think that no one can help us. That's why, I left everyone—you, mother, and father—behind. I don't need commiseration, I don't need concern. The weight of the situation made everything—even what should be positive things like sympathy and concern—seem more like burdens."

Renji opened his mouth, but realization held his voice.

"That's why you moved out after high school. That's why you're facing college alone."

Their conversation ended soon afterwards.

After his sister left, anxiety arrived and sat with him instead.

...

He didn't know when, he didn't know how.

When his mind finally caught up, Renji was back at his shared dormitory, the mess of scattered music sheets cleaned up.

His roommate asked him about seeing Seiichi off.

Renji told him an anecdote instead. It was his sister's story. And how ironic it was, that he could make himself sound so natural, so detached when the occurrence is actually more personal to him than he'd like it to be.

"One of my mother's friends had a husband who fell ill due to cancer. It is the fourth year they've fought the disease together. Once he had been diagnosed, the wife cut ties with the outside world and concentrated on caring for her husband. I've heard my mother talk among her friends about their initial shock, up till their gradual acceptance. Now, it is a known fact between them that if the wife doesn't call, it is good news." Renji breathed. "Recently , the wife contacted my mother regarding her rudeness. She claimed that too much care and sympathy could so easily become a burden. As offensive as it sounds, I cannot help but see the point to her words."

Unexpected, the other reacted to his words almost immediately.

"You know, senpai, when I left the states to come here, all my friends and classmates asked me a ton of questions to ensure that I'll do fine once I reached this foreign country. The way they came at me with all those questions made me feel smothered and, to tell you the truth, really annoyed. But then, I found some alone time to sit down to think. And I realized that it's their way of showing they care for me. I think as people, much of our emotions has to be displayed by words because there are so little other methods. And I realized there is no way I can stop anyone for caring about me, or myself for caring for those who matter to me. So the most important thing for me to do is to digest those sincere concerns, make it less of a hassle and ideally, convert it into fuel that's going to help me carry on my life, as I strive to achieve my dreams."

Renji blinked. As if all of a sudden, the immature roommate whom he assumed to be the offensive and inconsiderate foreigner he thought him to be became someone else. And looking at him now only made him want to withdraw from fear, for his light was too great.

"Maybe you don't think much of it, but I can't be grateful enough of all the things you've taught me and helped me with since I've arrived. Please, don't forget, I'm here too if you need me."

Akaya grinned at him sincerely.

And the wave that swept over his insides made him feel like a sinner who had just reached salvation, a wanderer who sees light in the distance pointing in the direction of his home.

...

As time passed, he realized that he was so used to bottling up his feelings and keeping them hidden. He mused about the possibility that his love for theater may not be a passion, but an escape route, an appropriate outlet for his true emotions that had nowhere else to go. Maybe Kirihara had been right about people needing others for support.

Maybe the foreigner bothered him so much because he could express himself so freely without being worried about what the rest of the world thought of him.

 _"Let me know if you need anything."_ Renji remembered himself saying before. He knew it was only out of courtesy. Deep down inside, he wanted the other to leave him alone.

 _"I'm here if you need me."_ Perhaps the other truly meant what he said.

...

A few days later, just when Renji started to wonder about how he would spend his summer recess when neither of his two closest friends were in the country, Akaya handed him a ticket.

"It's for my concert." He explained. Then added quickly. "Well, actually, it's not really _my_ concert. It's a concert for the band I'm part of."

Only when his eyes caught the guitar case beside the other's writing desk scattered with scribbled music sheets was he reminded that he was a part time musician.

Renji accepted the ticket. On the strip of card stock graffitied with dark colors, the date and location of the concert that his roommate talked about was printed in conspicuous white font.

"Sendai." Renji noted the location. "Is there a reason why you have arranged for your concert to be quite a traveling distance?"

"It's because my favorite Japanese band was formed in Sendai. When I started doing music, I already planned to have my first concert in Sendai. Hopefully, our songs will reach them, and reach the rest of the country." Akaya beamed, the light in his eyes so bright that it was enough to make others jealous knowing he actively pursued his dreams.

"So, I'll take this as a gift in return then. For the play admission."

"You can say that. But, even if you hadn't given me the ticket, I would still give you a ticket." Akaya looked at him seriously. "You asked me to tell you my story. So I won't leave out any details. Not if I can help it. I want you to know more about me, just like I want to know more about you."

The things that the other said to him sounded too much like a love confession. He considered he was being overly sensitive, so he avoided the other's direct eye contact and fascinated himself tracing the graffiti on the ticket.

"Niigata is not far from Sendai, too." Akaya redirected the conversation back to the trip discussion. "My bandmates tell me there are some nice beaches in Niigata, so maybe I'll finally see what the Sea of Japan looks like."

The other sounded like a child back in grade school, excited about a field trip. Yet, in the face of new experience and exposure, no one could remain an all-knowing, grounded adult.

Renji let him talk. As an observer, he liked to carry on conversations with people who spoke more than him, anyway.

"You know, Yanagi-senpai, it's funny. Before I came to Japan, I was as excited as I am now. Everyday, for a few weeks up to the time I got on the plane, all I could think of were the wonderful places I'll visit, delicious food I'll eat and all the parties I'll attend. But then, I came, and things weren't what I expected. School work is hectic, so I hardly have free time. And even when I did, I'd use it to write music. I didn't know I would become such an _otaku_ , you know?"

Akaya paused to make sure he was still listening.

He was, so he continued.

"But, strangely, I was okay with it. That I was not unhappy because I couldn't buy the things I wanted to buy, try the things I wanted to try. This made me think about that economics class I took back home, where the teacher made us listen to this successful investor's lecture. That man said that your happiness shouldn't depend on material items, and that it was important to find a job you love. If your job is fulfilling, then you wouldn't have to spend money to find fulfillment—in material items. You know?"

"If that is so, why don't you just have the concert and come right back to the _otaku_ life?" Renji teased.

"Senpai, there is still much to see of this world." Akaya shrugged. "I'm too young to resist the temptation. Besides, it's good to enjoy the finer things in life. Once in a while."

Renji smiled. "I guess you're right, when you have a plausible reason."

"Great. I knew I could convince you." Akaya rubbed his hands together. "So, when do we start packing?"

...

There was a clichéd saying that there is a first time for everything.

It was true that he had traveled and taken trips with his friends—with Akuto-niisan and Seiichi mostly. The point was, he always did things inside his comfort zone.

That's why, he preferred observing people, listening to them than interacting with them.

That's why, he helps people and doesn't expect help in return.

That's why, even before Akuto left, he still couldn't confess to him, the feelings he's had for so long.

Yet, in the short five months he's spent with the other, he felt himself change. It might be too fast-paced, a little overwhelming much like this nauseating train ride.

But, if it hadn't been overwhelming, hadn't been fast-paced, then perhaps he wouldn't have been pushed to change, pushed to trust more people after those important to him walked out of his life—for good or for the time being.

Renji watched as his partner's attention jolted from the passing scene outside to the pile of music sheets laid out on the tray table before him. The way he pointed out his observations and inquiries arising in the scene outside, remind him of their first meeting.

He smiled, as if the other's excitement spread to him, and sank into his skin, into his organs. He couldn't help but look forward to meeting the other's band.

...

The area that they stopped at in Sendai had the same urban setting as the city their university was situated at.

When they first arrived, they took a fifteen minute bus ride to the hotel his roommate had reserved.

"I hope you don't mind sharing a room with me. Again." Akaya grinned. "Forgive me for being a poor college student who can't afford a single room."

Renji shrugged. The other was being frugal, and he saw it as a virtue rather than the other being stingy. But feeling mischievous in his own way, he played along. "I guess I will have to manage with rooming with you. Again."

Perhaps it was the seriousness in his voice and expression that Akaya's grinning face twisted into one of pure shock.

"How cruel, senpai!" He stomped off.

Renji let victory lift his lips as he followed behind the other.

After they dropped off their luggage at their room, his roommate called his bandmates using the phone on the nightstand.

Hanging up, he announced. "We're meeting at the hotel lobby in fifteen. Then we're going to go for lunch and then practice afterwards."

Renji nodded in comprehension.

...

The next few days, his roommate spent practicing with bandmates in a basement they've rented for the time being.

Deciding not disturb them despite Akaya's repeated invitation, he explored the city.

He visited the city's major attractions. As a matter of course, since it was the summertime, where school recess and vacations were most prevalent, the major attraction sites were packed with tour buses and crowded with tourists. He was amused at the fact that he, though native Japanese, was like all the foreigners who have come for a visit. It was almost as if he became a foreigner walking on foreign land, when he passed by groups speaking different languages, gesturing in their own way when they talked.

Eventually, after all the stimuli overwhelmed him on day four, he decided to settle somewhere more serene, quiet. Though, he doubted the possibility of finding such a place in an urban setting such as this.

Finally, he found one at an inconspicuous street corner. A tea shop which he could just imagine his roommate call "a hole in the wall" if he sees it.

He entered. The bar is the first thing he spotted. Perhaps it was some sort of instincts that he, who traveled alone, had. The area was the perfect place for individuals to park themselves. The individuals who didn't want to sit awkwardly by themselves at tables meant for two or more. So he strolls to the non-alcoholic bar and sat down next to another guest. The decision to sit next to another as instinctive as his decision to first walk into the establishment.

The other seemed to be deep in thought as he looked down at some documents he laid out before him. His drink sat in an ornate cup, forgotten at a corner. Curious of the other's unfaltering focus, he glanced at the papers. The application for a study abroad program. The same application he filled out and filed after his play performance.

"I applied for the same program." He stated. His words drew the other from the papers he stared at. When the other turned to him,

Renji saw his crew cut and the pair of eyes, whose shade reminded him of his roommate's eyes.

The familiar feature convinced him to further the exchange through introduction.

"I apologize for my intrusion. I am Yanagi."

"Not at all." The other shook his head amiably. "I'm Oishi. Nice to meet you. So you applied for the same program, if I hadn't heard you incorrectly."

"Yes. " When he said it, his kouhai's face flashed in his mind. "I applied because I've had someone told me that it is okay to pursuit my dreams. To chase what it is that I desire truly."

"It must be a wonderful feeling." The envy in the other's voice was overflowing.

Feeling bold, or maybe it is the fact that they are strangers, never to see each other again in the future, that comforted him that Renji asked. "So, what is your story? You seem quite perturbed."

"My parents survived under poverty in their childhood. To them, no dream is worth, or more valuable than financial security—having food and shelter and the same place to sleep at night for a long time. I was raised having the same principle drummed into my head. Even as I entered college, into university, I was told to choose a major that would bring me an opulent future. I did what I was told. But in the four years of my university life, even when I kept myself as busy as possible, I could not disregard that hidden desire howling in my blood, and raiding my dreams at night. And now, it is so strong that I feel like I would explode if I don't acknowledge soon."

"If it is not too rude of me to ask, what is it that you desire?"

"I share a dream with the mass. I wish to travel and see more of this world." The other said, eyes strong. Yes, these are the eyes, regardless of size, of shade, that knew determination. Renji recognized it because he had seen similar eyes too many countless times before.

"Is that so."

"Aa. I will admit too that the majority of this reason stems from my childish wish to follow someone important to me." A rosy shade surfaced in his cheeks, and Renji realized that the other was someone who was easily embarrassed as he was emotionally sensitive. "That someone will be pursuing a profession in tennis out of the country soon. I want to follow."

Renji paused before speaking. "As much as our interests conflict, our parents want the best for us as we want the best for ourselves. Times are different and perhaps the older generation have sensed this change and are bearing the pain of becoming obsolete, slowly but surely."

Oishi nodded.

"Like you, Oishi-kun, my wish is to explore the world beyond this country. I know it will, perhaps, be a travail to convince my parents, as you have to convince yours. But I feel, if after years and years of exceptional education that we cannot communicate to those most important to us who want nothing more than our success, then is not all our education a waste? So I will do my best to convince my parents, and I encourage you to do the same."

Oishi stayed silent as if to ponder his words.

Then, he nodded. "Yes, you are right... I think... It is another way of taking responsibility of our dreams... To defend it."

"Yes, that is right."

The other smiled then, as if burden had been ameliorated from his shoulders. "Thank you for listening. You have been most helpful, friend."

Renji reflected that smile. "I must thank you for doing the same."

The two of them accompanied each other to the exit. At the same time, a figure broke from the street crowd and approached them.

"Oishi." A deep, serious voice called out. Renji turned to find a man their age with light brown hair, thin-rimmed glasses and athletic built before them.

"Tezuka." His companion greeted happily. He turned to him to say goodbye. "Good luck to the both of us, Yanagi-kun."

The two left, soon swallowed in the crowd. Maybe it was the nostalgia of the sunset, or the feeling that couldn't be put into words in the moment that Renji chose to stay and watch the pair leave.

Then, he turned in the opposite direction of the pair and headed towards his own destination.

As he walked along the busy streets by himself, he recalled a past conversation he had with his Akuto-niisan.

The entirety of the exchange fermented, and rotted away in his mind like the rest of the memories he intended to keep, but couldn't preserve as new information demanded space and attention.

All he could recall was a single statement of that exchange.

_"One day, we will all find where we truly belong."_

One day, he mused when he looked at the skyscraper in the distance in which the sun had outlined its height in silver, we will all find our own Sendai.

Sendai. Where his roommate's dream to reach out to the world with his music would come true.

Sendai. Where he reached his own epiphany.

He had spent the past few days touring around the city by himself. Alone.

But the loneliness he had felt on day one, slowly condensed and evaporated after he came to a conclusion.

Everyone was born onto this world to take life's journey alone. Birth. Growth. Decline. Death. Everyone is alone. But no one, lonely. Because there are always people everyone could encounter, stories he could listen to, understandings he could reach to, and connections he could make.

Everyone is alone. But no one is lonely.

When he thought about all those people he had met, known, or acquainted with thus far, the desire to set out to meet more people burned stronger in his heart.

As if situations aligned with his his thoughts and emotions, he saw another appeal to him in the crowd. The other walked towards him when he spotted him.

"Yanagi-senpai!" They reunited in the mass of individuals, who would possibly have the same reunion in their lives, countless of times.

"Akaya." He greeted.

"Where did you go? I looked all over for you!" Renji couldn't decided if the other sounded more worried or if he was complaining of his absence.

"I browsed the area." He said plainly, then asked. "Has your practice ended so soon?"

"Yup, we called it a day once we got everything down pat. Now it just leaves tomorrow's performance." Akaya beamed. "Come on, senpai, let's go for dinner. I'm starved!"

Renji nodded and allow the other to lead him away. "Where would you like to dine?"

"I saw Kawamura's Sushi up ahead. My friends recommend it. Said it's the best thing in the city. Let's go try it!"

"Aa."

...

 **[BGM:** Monkey Majik - "The Apprentice" **]**

The concert itself was a line up of seven different start-up bands, each performing five songs of their own.

"Of course, if we just get out there, no one's going to know who we are." Akaya explained on their walk there.

"So Jackal and _Mamushi_ designed a website together for our band and posted clips and videos of our practices everywhere online." Marui continued.

"And boom, we got the attention we wanted." Momoshiro finished. "Many of the people attending today are here to support us."

Renji nodded. It was a simple but direct concept to grasp. But what really fascinated him was how the understanding among them was so deep that they could start, continue and finish what each other wanted to say.

Finally, they arrived. The concert that his roommate talked about took place in a theater-like setting. It reminded him of their university auditorium in its rows of padded seating and sectional divisions.

Renji took a seat in the front. As the other guests and fans took their seats, some carried posters and banners to display their support for their interested bands, he began to feel out of place. One, he came alone. And another, he had no idea what he would be expecting since he had never been to a concert before.

Soon, as more people gathered and the seats started filling rapidly, he let anxiety slip away bit by bit each time he brushed shoulders with people pushing past him. He wasn't sure if it was the contagion of the crowd's enthusiasm, or the fact that the concert would start soon and once it started, the lights would go out, everyone's focus would be the stage, and no one would care why he had come to this concert in the first place.

Renji simmered himself in the first three performances.

The entire theater faded to darkness as the next band prepared to stage. Akaya's band. The fourth performance staged when the lights brightened. Their debut.

Akaya on his guitar, and as the team's lead vocals. Marui on guitar as well, and as the band's backup vocals. Kaidou on bass guitar. Momoshiro on drums. Jackal on keyboard.

On stage, Akaya's eyes swiped through the entire audience. When their eyes met, Renji knew he had found him.

"Let's go!" Into the microphone he shouted. The already aroused audience roared in reply.

...

Their plans met with unforeseen misfortune. Their plan to travel to Niigata the next morning was canceled.

Since the group retired to bed early dawn with facial muscles sore from laughing and stomachs distended from alcohol over-consumption, no one had enough mental clarity to meet at the set time after the post concert party the night before.

That morning, Renji stirred awake at eight-thirty, after only three hours of sleep. It seemed his biological alarm had been set for too many years. Even the influence of alcohol could not alter it in any way.

Surprisingly, however, his roommate was awake too. Before him.

From his recumbent position in bed, Renji spotted the other sitting cross-legged beside the glass sliding doors leading to the balcony. His hair ruffled by restless sleep. Yesterday stood still in the blankness of his gaze, its shadow lingering under his eyes.

His guitar rested on his lap, and his fingers plucked at a few strings. Testing. Searching. Everything done instinctively.

Akaya must have noticed his curious look when he blinked, dismissing the absentmindedness from sight, and peered over to him, rising from the bed. Excited that he had found him through slumber's grasp, he waved him over to his seat.

Remnants of intoxication and fatigue lingered in his system, and he lurched slightly, taking his first few steps. He sank down on his knees before his kouhai.

The other offered him an earphone. He latched it on his ear as music set in. As gentle as a lullaby. As soothing as the music box melody.

"It's 'Saltwater Room' by Owl City. Usually, music like this does the trick when I can't sleep. But for some reason, listening to this song makes me more awake. Maybe it's my brain feeling challenged. I'm trying out the notes on my guitar so we can sing our own duet version of this song."

Renji cleared his throat a few times unsuccessfully. He didn't talk much yesterday, but his throat still feels dry, hoarse, overused. He refused the other's invitation.

Though, Akaya insisted there was a certain attractive quality in his raspy voice.

"And, Marui-senpai really likes your voice. He wants me to convince you to join." The other added.

In the end, he gave in to Akaya's pestering and begging. He sang along to the melody the other played.

Afterwards, he discovered that the other had recorded their trial on his smartphone, using a recording app.

The room returned to its previous serenity as the other tapped away on his phone. He felt himself about to drift back to sleep, to fall upon the carpeted floor when the other nudged him again.

"Senpai, call me."

"Akaya."

"No," he gave a small laugh, "I mean, call me on my phone."

He grabbed his phone off the nightstand groggily, knowing the other's persistence in his insistence. He called.

Their duet played on the other's phone. Their dulcet voices mixed in with the quiet, solitary guitar and the rain drops knocking on their windows. It gave the impression that they truly existed in a saltwater room when they sang the song.

"I don't think I'm ever going to change my ringtone again." Akaya sighed in content.

Try as he may, Renji still could not figure out what it was about his flawed voice, his inexperience with key identification, that the other praised him about.

True to the other's words, he never changed the ringtone.

Until his phone met its demise years later, much to Akaya's dismay.

...

Night.

The rain stopped and the sky cleared the next day when they traveled together to Niigata.

After a day's worth of sunbathing, the group stayed at the beach to make a fire to light the night.

After they made the bonfire, and marveled at the brightness and beauty of its flame, Akaya stood and volunteered.

"I'm going to the local convenience store to get some drinks and snacks for us. Momo-senpai, Kaidou-senpai, Kuwahara-senpai, come with me!"

Renji stood up. "I will go with you too."

Momoshiro patted his shoulder. "Stay put. We've got this."

Saying, the four of them ran off towards the direction of their hotel. Their figures shrank with the distance. Their loud howls of laughter and teasing faded away to silence eventually.

Renji sank back down to watch the flame with the youth whose red hair rivaled the brightness of the flame. Then, before his listless mind drifted off to find something to occupy its attention, the redhead spoke. Silence broke between two strangers.

"Yanagi." The other called to him.

"Yes, Marui-kun." He answered. He thinks the way the other said his name was natural, almost as if he's said it many times before. Unlike the way he answered, calling his name with a hint of uncertainty.

"Now that they're gone, I can actually get this out." His words stroke at his apprehension. "I don't know how to put this subtly, so I'm just going to put it bluntly. Akaya likes you. A lot."

At first, the other's straightforwardness killed the apprehension and didn't evoke any further responses from him. Neither externally nor internally.

Maybe life has penetrated his being, reached to his heart and made him numb, that he doesn't consider unrealistic possibilities, things too ideal for him to trust.

After a momentary pause, he finally dropped. "He is a considerate person."

The other shook his head. "Hey, I'm not saying he's just a friendly guy. I'm saying, he wants to be more than that with you, but he's too much of a pussy to say it out."

Renji remained silent. He didn't know how to reply to that. He didn't trust himself to make a proper reply.

"We met online, through a music discussion board. It was Jackal, me and Akaya at first. Momo and _Mamushi_ joined later. So I can say, Jackal and I know Akaya better because we've known him longer. At first, all we talked about was music—our favorite artists and bands, our style, the instruments we played." When he talked, he stared at the fire as if it created and re-enacted the memories.

Instinctively, Renji fed the fire more wood to keep it burning longer. Indirectly, he fed the other's memory as well.

"Eventually, the subject of our conversations branched out and we talked more about other things. There's a strange comfort in confiding in strangers because those people don't know you in real life. You don't have to worry about them using your secrets against you.

"But that Bakaya... Even when we talked about other things, he still talked the most about music. There's no doubt how that's like the center of his universe."

Marui paused, and looked over to him. Renji felt the shift in topic.

"Then, a few months ago, he announced his arrival in Japan. That was before we planned to meet. He started talking about you, his roommate. He talked about how you're not what he expected, how you helped him a lot, listened to him. I felt something then."

His gaze bore through his eyelids, as if to analyze all that his roommate had told him.

"Soon enough, all he talked about besides music was you. When we agreed to meet, one of the reasons he gave was that he wanted for you to meet us." The other's lips lifted at a corner as if in mischief. "I don't know if you've noticed or not, but everyone here, except Akaya, are couples. Momo and _Mamushi_. Jackal and I. We're what people would call, 'homos.' Even though Bakaya isn't one of us, Momo joked earlier that he might be rubbing off of us."

He threw back his head and laughed.

When he stopped, he turned back to him seriously.

"Well, I did all I could do for that kid. The rest is up to the two of you. If the two of you end up getting together, we really wouldn't mind a new member." He leaned toward him. "You've got a nice voice."

Their conversation ended then, as the rest of their friends returned.

He left the words at a secret corner of his mind that he could return to later. It wasn't a good time to think.

Especially not when everyone exchanged stories and jokes and his companion beside him assertively involved him in their conversation, and solicited his response.

It was almost as if he was trying to show him off to these people he's come to know as friends.

From time to time, he caught Marui watching him intently. His glimmering eyes waited for something to happen.

As the night passed, and the youths drained the alcoholic beverages and consumed the snacks, he could feel something arise. It was not provoked by the heat of the fire. Renji felt the other slip closer to him through the night when he thought he hadn't noticed. The hands they used to prop themselves up drew near. Until finally, their arms brushed, then pressed together as his hand took his and held it.

Akaya talked on normally. No one pointed out the change (except for the fact that Marui raised his brows at him suggestively).

They sat like that until they all gave up fighting sleep and Jackal suggested that they retire for the night.

Akaya seemed like he had too much to drink. The four offered to stay and clean while he supported the other and led him back to their room.

...

Fatigue and intoxication latched onto them, making it feel as if his roommate was not the only one he supported as they lurched back to their hotel room.

It was good that their room wasn't far away from the elevator on the eighth floor.

He pulled out the key card and unlocked the door. Entering, he dragged the intoxicated youth along.

He transferred the other onto the bed. Before he could straighten himself to grab a towel from the bathroom to clean off the other's sandy face, a force knocked him off his already unsteady balance.

Renji landed on top of his drunken roommate. Or supposed drunken roommate. With the strength and agility that no drunkard should have, Akaya regained dominance when he altered their positions.

The emerald eyes that looked down to him hazed slightly. But it was clear enough that Renji knew the other wasn't as drunk as he acted before.

"What is the meaning of this, Akaya?" Renji questioned. He wasn't angry or annoyed. Just as curious as a child. He contributed his mellowness to the effects of alcohol.

Alcohol made everyone into something else after its intake.

"I love you, Yanagi-senpai." Then, as if to confirm his determination, he repeated. "I love you, Renji-san."

Then, he lowered himself to press an ear against his left chest.

"These kinds of things, you should only say once. It would be rather insincere if you repeated it." He told him.

"You're so cold, senpai." The other whined. "That's why I had to say it twice. To make up for you because I know you wouldn't say something like this even if you wanted to. Being Japanese, I know you would only say something like, ' _Tsuki ga kirei desu ne._ '"

Renji didn't know how to reply to that, though he admit, the way the other referenced his favorite author seduced him.

"See, you don't say anything. You're cold. But it's okay." His face rubbed at his chest. "Your heart is warm. You're a gentle person. That's a fact that you can't deny because your actions don't know how to keep silent like you."

Then, the other pushed himself up again to look down at him.

"Senpai, will you let me see your eyes?"

Slowly, his eyelids raised and he displayed a vulnerable part of himself to the other.

Akaya stared. He seemed like he wanted to kiss his eyes. But, in the end, he only dove down and kissed his lips instead.

As the other's tongue caressed his own, he heard the chains of inhibition snap and he let himself go.

People all did crazy thing that they wouldn't dream of doing when they were intoxicated. It was okay, his mind told him, because at least he could use alcohol as an excuse later. If the other didn't want to take responsibility for his words. If he didn't want to take responsibility for his actions.

The other not only broke down his shell on an emotional level, but he took him apart physically now too.

Akaya pulled his long legs apart so that he witnessed the most hidden part of him that he, himself, had never witnessed before.

"It's...so beautiful..." He murmured.

And Renji felt a torrid wave leave a trail of red in his face and neck. He tried wiggling his feet to free them from his kouhai's grip.

But the other only held on firmly, and dipped down.

He felt moist, warm structures at his puckering entrance.

"No, Akaya...!" He squirmed.

"Don't move. Don't run away." The other held on tighter and rose from his work to look him in the eye. "Your strength, your vulnerability, your sadness, your happiness, your filth, your purity. Give them all to me. I want everything."

His figure trembled like the tree in his name swaying in the squall. "No..."

"You don't know how precious you are to me."

Then he plunged into him. Deeply.

His calloused fingers found a way to his mouth, hanging open to let lose moans and groans. His fingertips stirred up his tongue and soft palate the same way his hardness stirred him up inside.

...

After the intensity, after his mind finally caught up to his body, he found his words again.

"You're quite experienced in this field." Renji realized how jealous he may have sounded only after he uttered such words.

Akaya shrugged. "What can I say? I'm a fast learner. I didn't even need prior exposure."

"Hm, are those sweet words coming from Kirihara Akaya or the American?"

"Senpai, you need to stop stereotyping against Americans." Akaya glared. "Besides, I haven't forgotten all the freaky tricks you Japanese like to do. In and out of bed."

Renji paused as if to consider his words. "You are right. I must show you what I have up my sleeves next time."

"I can't wait." Akaya grinned.

...

While his companion showered the next morning, he took the opportunity to step out into the balcony. If the other doesn't find him after he steps out of the shower, it would be certain that the balcony would be his last place to look. It would buy him some time in privacy.

Leaning against the side rail, Renji enjoyed the June day—with its warm, but not overly torrid sunlight and bright sky. As he looked out to the ocean, to the horizon where the puffs of clouds rolled in from as if the foams of the sea had risen to heaven.

He accessed his email from his smartphone, the email he hadn't checked since Seiichi's departure to Kyushu. Even though he accused him of being too passive, for not taking the time to greet the people who have left his side, Renji knew the other hadn't given up on him because of this flaw. He would be the one to initiate contact. He made it easy for him. All he had to do was to continue replying to him.

True to his prediction, the two most recent emails are from Seiichi. One was from the end of April, reporting to him that he has arrived and settled in Kyushu. He couldn't contact him earlier because of how the side effects of medication knocked him out during treatment.

And the closing of that particular email encouraged him to register for a communication app account.

The most recent email from his friend arrived merely a few days ago. He has started rehab due to his fast recovery. It seemed the illness in his body groveled and capitulated to the aggressive therapeutic regimen. In the particular email, he introduced a new friend he made during his rehab experience. An professional tennis player recovering from a sports injury. Sanada Genichirou.

_He reminds me of you. His hobbies of traditional origin. His propriety. Though his stiffness and rectitude are nothing like you. He's the source of my entertainment; it's fun to tease him._

Reading Seiichi's words, Renji was reminded of what Marui recounted for him last night. About how Akaya started talking about him upon his arrival at the university, when he started rooming with him. How he felt that he would become someone special to Akaya.

He couldn't help but instinctively feel the same. Maybe it was partly due to his personal wish for his friend to be surrounded by more close friends and to be happy. Yet, the skeptical part him doubted the inconsistency of life. The future was a hard to predict. So perhaps, they would have to wait and see what would happen.

After reading his email, Renji replied in his usual succinct manner. He was glad he arrived safely and his conditions were improving. Hesitantly, he added, advising his friend not to tease his rehab companion too harshly because he sounded like the type who took jokes and teases seriously.

Eventually, maybe he'll write longer emails and make them sound less formal and more personal, as if he was actually speaking. But now, he's just getting used to this new method of communicating with his faraway friend. He was getting used to using this method of communicating with someone other than his teachers, faculties and others who required formal aloofness.

Renji continued checking the emails in his inbox, trashing some junk mail along the way.

He discovered one with no subject. The sender not as nameless as the email he sent. Mitsuya Akuto.

He had to admit, he was rather surprised that the other would initiate contact with him. Especially after so long.

When he read the email, Renji mused that perhaps he had gotten his terse manner from the other. The other's letter was the epitome of succinctness.

_Renji,_   
_How are you? Life in the States, in the hinterlands is much quieter and harder than I suspected as the resources here are limited and hard to access. It has made me realize true survival is only achieved when one survives in an environment that is antithetical to what he is familiar with. I will be proceeding to a more suburban habitat soon._   
_I hope you have found direction in your life since our last conversation. Don't be afraid to ask for what you want._   
_As much as my lack of contact proves otherwise, I miss you._

He paused, reading the email several times until he found the words to reply.

_Akuto-niisan,_   
_I am well. Please take care of yourself. Hopefully, moving to the suburbs will be better for you._   
_Thank you for your concern. I have found my direction._   
_I miss you too._

After replying to Akuto's email, Renji made up his mind to call his sister. No one picked up on the other line, so his sister's voice mail received him instead. He suspected that his sister retreated to continue combating cancer with his brother-in-law. He didn't mind. Following the flow of the call, he left his message on the voice mail. He knew his sister would check it later.

"Nee-san, I hope _gikei_ 's conditions retained its positive prognosis. I want to tell you, I applied for a study abroad program overseas and my application was accepted. I will be leaving Japan soon on scholarship for a year. If possible, I would like to rendezvous with you before I leave. Let me know."

He hung up. He remained motionless as if he waited for his sister to answer his call immediately. His mind drew a blank the same way it does after he felt like he made a big accomplishment and waited for the expected results.

The sound of the sliding doors opening behind him pulled him from that void. Then heat that rivaled the early summer warmth encompassed him from behind.

"So you're hiding over here." His roommate complained.

"Yes, and you found me."

"Because you wanted to be found."

"Akaya."

"Hm?" The other buried his nose in the nape of his neck, inhaling the unique scent of his bodily scent mingled with the fragrance of the sea, of the sun.

"Will you sing me a song?" He requested.

The other let him go slowly. "Sure. Wait here."

He left to retrieve his guitar. When he returned, Renji waited for him to finish tuning his guitar.

"What would you like to hear?"

"Don't play me a dolorous melody. Play me a song of hope, of optimism. A song like the ones you wrote and played at your concert."

And Akaya did just that.

Sooner or later, the music drew attention as the balcony door slid open in the room next door. The redhead emerged, rubbing his eyes and yawning.

Akaya aborted his playing. The two of them looked over to the newcomer on the right.

"Good morning, Marui-senpai." Akaya called.

"Bad morning. All the commotion coming from your room yesterday kept me awake the whole night."

"That's bull! I didn't even overdo it since it was already late!" He must have realized how he fell into the other's trap when he saw Marui's impish grin and Renji's face buried in his palm.

"Yeah! We heard it too! Didn't know you had it in you, kid!" Momoshiro's voice from the balcony on the left.

"Shut up, senpai!"

...

"How long are you going to stay like that?" It was only when his companion interrupted his view-gazing that remembered someone sitting beside him. In close proximity. "It's a long ride from here to the states. You'll get all the time in the world to look out the window then."

But it won't be a view like this, Renji wanted to counter. And maybe he just had to stare hard enough now to capture these images of his native country in his mind so he can later on mold the clouds into their shapes and structures from his window seat on the plane.

So he didn't turn around, quit his scrutiny of the scenery quickly yielding to the shadows of the night to look at his companion as the passionate lover he should be.

He continued staring. From the reflection on the window, he made out faintly the other shifting in his seat. He felt the other reach for his hand, and their fingers interlocked.

Renji didn't shake him off, even though he was slightly uncomfortable even with such subtle display of affection in public. He reasoned that foreigners like his companion depended on contact for intimacy. But, only he knew, foreign culture or not, he secretly enjoyed it too.

"You got so cold suddenly..." Akaya murmured beside him.

"I'm just trying to remember this place." This place he called home for so long.

His companion removed the armrest that divided their seats. He slid over, so his leg crossed the edge of his own seat and hung off the edge of his. He leaned against his back, almost as if Renji sat in his embrace.

"But you're supposed to look at me so you would remember me too." He protested to his ear, and watched it contently as it glowed red from embarrassment.

Akaya rested his chin on his shoulder and watched the passing scenes like him.

"You know, senpai, before I left the States to come here, I was like you. I hung out with as many friends as I could, went to all the places I usually went to, like you, to remember them. I had so much exposure that I got really tired and bored of the places and people. Then, six months later, today, I'm more homesick than I thought I'd be."

"Absence makes the heart grow fonder."

"I guess I didn't know the truth of those words until today. But, senpai, spending time with you seems to comfort me. I feel closer to home now that I'm close to you." His voice gradually grew softer, as if he had regressed back to boyhood. It gave him the illusion that his companion wasn't a man seeking intimacy, but a boy seeking sanctuary.

"Perhaps, in the social interactions that we engage in throughout our lives, our true intent is to find in those interactions pieces in which remind us of the home we've come to be so familiar with." Renji smiled. "Amusingly enough, I learned a valuable lesson from a quote inscribed on a tea box once. It said that we journey afar merely to find our way back home."

He wasn't sure if his fascination with tea later on in life had stemmed from that initial epiphany.

It has gotten dark enough outside that all he could make out now were the spots of light from the lamp posts and the buildings and houses that outlined the passing cities and towns. Akaya's reflection grinned at him cheekily.

"Take a good look at your surroundings once you get to the States, senpai. Check it out. See how you like it." Akaya squeezed his hand. "After all, it might be _our_ future home."

 **[END BGM:** Utada Hikaru - "Deep River" **]**

**Author's Note:**

> I have so much respect for those who compose long writing pieces now. I don't know how you do it, but I think I've found the reason to why I just stick to short, one shots.
> 
> The title, Spaceship Chikyuu, translates to "Spaceship Earth." It is actually an attraction at Disney World, a theme park in the state I reside in. This attraction is somewhat of an educational ride, as the guests learn how the advancement of communications and technology help shape the future.
> 
> This story, if you have not noticed already, is also filled with dialogues, conversations and communications. As the characters chat, they are not only exchanging feelings and information, they are also helping each other reach to certain epiphanies. And in a way, bettering each others' futures.
> 
> Finally, I would like to admit, my fanfiction-writing days should have ended a long time ago, after I finished Spring Tree Above the Village. But it was due to my own obduracy that pushed me to continue. I love writing. I love my readers. And I couldn't give up. But, as much as I love all this, I have to say goodbye now, because I'm late in life.
> 
> So, everyone, it's been fun. Thank you for allowing me to communicate my knowledge. Thank you for reading. Thank you for your support.
> 
> From this day on, I'll be a supportive reader, just like you! Yoroshiku!


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